


The Disappearing Friend

by Brian00760



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:53:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23875747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brian00760/pseuds/Brian00760
Summary: A somewhat unique look at that friend you had as a child that no one else could see or hear. It also briefly touches on growing up, saying good-bye and starting new.





	The Disappearing Friend

The Disappearing Friend

The last time I was born, my hours were spent with a young boy named Kyle. Our friendship started out much the same as those before him and it followed the same old blueprint. It would begin as a surprised encounter, evolve from a new acquaintance and quickly building into an amazing friendship. The friendship would vary in the length of time we were together, and then they would slowly slip into non-inclusive activities and the final step, the one I dislike the most, my eventual departure. 

With each departure, I am forced to come to terms with the fact that my help, my guidance, my gift of friendship is no longer needed. Kyle, the young man before me, had begun the transformation from the world of invisible friends, into a world of physical friends, school and activities that are seemingly important to the grown-up crowd. This new structured world left less and less time for play and imagination. 

I am always saddened when this time arrives, and I have never really come to terms with it. I’m certain I never will. Still, it was time for me to go. My service had reached its zenith. No more uncomplicated play, no more opportunity to mold a young mind and help the child along was to be forth-coming. My time was done.

You see, in this new found world of discarding things that no longer matters or that hold intrinsic value, I have resigned myself to the fact that I too am was just another item to throw away. 

However, yours truly was compelled to speak to Kyle one more time. To let him know that this friendship we had shared was valued and our time together was meaningful to me.

I considered all these things and looked over at him. His back was turned to me as he was involved in the latest distraction, video games. I am not certain what the video game was called, but it did involve copious amounts of shooting and blowing up of opponents. Still, like many other things that begins transitioning the child to an adult, it didn’t really interest me. Instead, I found myself looking fondly at a young man who was once a little boy with an imagination that rivalled even the most advanced video game.

But where had that boy gone? At what precise moment did he change and begin the road to adulthood? When did his heart lose its innocence? Kyle had taken that initial step towards the geometric pattern of modern day slavery – the quest for all things superficial. I was nothing but a memory buried in his cluttered mind. He was walking into a world where tangible was the norm, where cold hearts and the quest for money and power was the religion. My presence was no longer needed.

I wondered if I had failed him somehow. Was there a point in time where I didn’t use proper judgement or give Kyle the guidance he needed in order to hold onto imagination just a bit longer?

And how is my help or my guidance measured? By my own definition, success is having achieved and accomplished an aim or objective. How do you quantify providing guidance and taking part in play? If a child holds on to his or her innocence throughout the rest of their life, is that a measure of accomplishment or an objective achieved? Who is my judge and what qualifies him or her to judge me and what criteria are they using for said measurement? Meh, what does it matter anyhow? Perhaps it is best not to concern myself with so many questions that do not have answers. 

I took a deep breath and then looking at Kyle, spoke “Thank you for being my friend Kyle.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed by my invasion of his personal time, and how loud my voice was, I waited for his response.

What was returned to me was disappointing. For a brief second his attention shifted from the video game, his head slightly tilted in my direction, his eyes taken off the game for a mere second. Just as quickly his attention returned to the video game. Alas, he had heard only a whisper, perhaps a familiar voice from a different time. Good-Bye Kyle. 

Now death began its unrepentant approached and I began to fade away, much like a Phoenix of Greek Mythology that lives for a time, only to die; but is reborn yet again. The process is very vivid to me, as are all the friends I have met through time. It stays with me as deaths transitory nature, wastes no time in pulling me in the direction of a new event horizon boundary where previous occasions become points of no return.

I have never taken my death and rebirth for granted, even though I have always known a new beginning and a new child to influence. Reborn to try again, to help these children hang onto their imagination, free from the conditioned view of the world and their life.

Now, slowly, barely audible at first, I could hear the unmistakable sounds of a child talking but nothing I could make sense of at first. I felt weightless, the unmistakable feeling of floating on air, no different than a bird floating on a wind current I should think. Still, knowing all this, there was no solid reference to draw upon.

Eventually it was the sound of the young voice growing louder, speaking directly to me that convinced me to take a chance and open my eyes. Upon opening my eyes and allowing them time to focus, before me stood a young boy of no more than four years of age. He was staring at me with a look of hope and bewilderment. As this new picture grew clearer, the boy’s bewilderment turned to joy. I was clearly in another place, in a child’s world. He smiled at me and spoke. 

“Hi. My name is Samuel. What’s yours?”

Alas! He could see me. What a joyous occasion indeed!! I was given yet another chance to guide a young person and help them understand the joy of play and imagination.

I quickly answered “My name is whatever you want it to be.”

Samuel pondered the idea briefly and said “If I had a friend, I would want his name to be . . . . . Do you want to play with me?”

I smiled cheerfully and said “Yes I do”

The End.


End file.
